Encapture
by simplyxamazing
Summary: She would be civil, Hermione decided. But she refused to call him Professor Malfoy. Prequel to "Forget to Remember," but can be read as a stand alone.
1. Somebody That I Used to Know

_This story occurs before **Forget to Remember**, but can be read as a stand alone. To everyone who read **Forget to Remember**, I hope you enjoy learning about the backstory._

_

* * *

_

The beige envelope crunched in her white-knuckled hands as Hermione Granger stormed up the stairs to the Gryffindor girl's dormitories. She threw the envelope down before plopping down on the bed, arms crossed.

"What's got your wand in a knot?" Ginny Weasley asked, leaning her head down from the top bunk. The tips of her hair red lightly graced Hermione's crimson comforter.

"Your insufferable brother," Hermione said. "Apparently I am making a huge mistake in returning to Hogwarts." Ginny laughed.

"He's a dimwit. I stopped listening to him when I learned to talk," she said. Hermione smiled weakly.

"It's just . . . I worked hard for this, you know? I'm _going_ to graduate," she said.

"And you will," Ginny said, hoping down of her bed and landing barefoot on the hardwood floor. "But not if we're late to our first potions class," she said, slipping on her shoes. Hermione's eyes widened as she checked her watch. She shoved the envelope under her pillow, smoothed out her hair, and grabbed her wand from her bedside table. She then followed Ginny quickly down the stairs and into the hall.

"Who do you think the new professor is?" Ginny asked. Hermione shrugged.

"No idea, but I'm sure they're perfectly capable—especially since Professor McGonagall chose them."

"You don't think it's weird that it was never announced?"

"When did we ever know who our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was going to be?"

"Good point," Ginny said, opening the door to the Potions Classroom. All but one desk—directly in front of the board—was occupied.

"Great," Ginny muttered as she grudgingly took the seat on the left. Smiling, Hermione took the seat on the right. She placed her wand in front of her so that it was perfectly parallel with the top of the desk.

"You do remember that you hate potions, right?" Ginny asked. Hermione laughed nervously.

"I'm just being prepared." Ginny rolled her eyes and stared at the blank chalkboard. Besides the desks and chairs, the room was entirely bare. It seemed odd to Hermione—the potions classroom was always filled with flasks, cauldrons, and disgusting smells. She looked down at her watch.

"They're late," she stated to Ginny, who shrugged and twirled her wand between her fingers. Suddenly, the doors flew open and a tall man entered. Hermione immediately spun around to take a glance at the new professor.

"You have got to be kidding me," Hermione muttered, elbowing Ginny in the ribs. Ginny flinched, but turned around.

"Ron will love this one," she said.

The man approached the board, pulled out a piece of chalk from his right pocket and scribbled _Professor Malfoy_ on the board. He turned, glaring at the cowering students before him.

"I realize many of you know me as Draco, but under no circumstances are you to address me as anything but 'Professor,' understand?"

"Git," Ginny muttered as everyone but Hermione and her nodded their heads in agreement. Hermione snatched her wand from the table, pushed her chair back, stood up, and began walking toward the door.

"Ms. Granger," Draco drawled, "Just where do you think you're going?" Hermione spun around so fast her hair hit the side of her face. She narrowed her eyes.

"Away from you," she said before walking out the door, making sure to slam it behind her. She crossed her arms as she headed in the direction of the headmaster's office.

Was she being childish? Probably. Did she care? Not at the moment. Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater for Merlin's sake—he watched her being tortured! A man—not that she could really call him that—like that did not belong at Hogwarts. She was going to get to the bottom of this.

She arrived at the bronze statue of a cat guarding the entrance to McGonagall's office.

"Password?" it asked, licking its right paw.

"I need to speak to Professor McGonagall immediately!" Hermione said. The statue did nothing.

"Guinevere, let the girl up," Hermione heard Professor McGonagall's voice say, and the statue moved aside. Hermione entered the revealed passageway and found Professor McGonagall sitting at her desk.

"I apologize, Ms. Granger," she said. "Aren't you supposed to be in potions right now? What is the matter?"

"Why is Malfoy here?" she asked.

"Draco is a very capable potions master, as I know you are well informed," McGonagall replied.

"Well, yes, but—"

"He's a Death Eater?" McGonagall questioned. "I am well aware."

"Then why—"

"It was Dumbledore's wish for Draco to teach at Hogwarts. He felt it would . . . redeem him, if you wish." Hermione sighed and looked down at her feet. "Give him a chance, Ms. Granger. Albus saw something in him the rest of us did not—and I trusted Albus with my life." Hermione nodded.

"I guess I should get back to class," she said. McGonagall smiled.

"I think that would be a wise decision," she replied. Hermione returned through the entrance of the office and began walking back to the potion's classroom. She felt ashamed of her earlier actions, but was entirely too prideful to apologize to Draco. Instead, she decided she would try her best to be civil. Maybe the war had changed Draco—maybe he wasn't as spiteful as he'd once been. Sighing, she pushed open the door and returned to the classroom. The entire class watched as she walked to her desk and took her seat beside Ginny. Draco picked a book up off his desk and threw it in front of her. She jumped as it hit the table.

"Read chapter one for tomorrow—if you haven't already read the entire book," he drawled and Hermione heard someone behind her snicker. Remembering her promise, she simply smiled at him. He looked taken aback for a moment, but turned around before she could analyze his expression.

"Class dismissed," he said, and people nearly ran out. "Oh, and Ms. Granger?" he asked as Hermione was about to walk out of the door. "Detention. 8 o' clock."

"Can't wait," she muttered, imagining his smirking face staring at the back of her head.

* * *

_Not very interesting, I know. Don't worry, it gets better. **Review Please**_ :)


	2. Done All Wrong

"Of course you're early," Draco drawled as Hermione entered the potions classroom. "No matter, I'm prepared." Hermione fought the urge to glare and instead looked at the black cauldrons lining the students' desks. "I found these in Snape's storage closet. They're absolutely filthy—perfect for you, Granger," Draco said. Attempting to find the good in the situation, Hermione noted that he had at least not called her Mudblood.

"So you want me to clean them?" she asked.

Draco smirked. "Obviously."

Hermione pulled out her wand and began walking over to the desk closest to her left.

"No magic," Draco said.

Hermione's nails dug into the palm of her hand as she gripped her wand tightly. "Are you mad?" she asked. "That will take entirely too long—I only have two hours! Besides, don't you want them properly cleaned?"

"I'm sure a muggle-born like you has experience with washing things by hand," he drawled.

"Actually," Hermione snapped, "we have a dishwasher."

"What, is that like a house elf?" he asked. "Didn't think you liked the idea of servants."

Hermione slammed her wand down on the table. "It's not a servant, it's a machine that . . . oh forget it!" she yelled. She took a few deep breaths, trying to get rid of the flush she was sure graced her cheeks. "Where's a brush?" she asked, attempting to appear unfazed.

"My desk," Draco responded, pointing at a yellow-bristled brush lying beside a gray bucket. As Hermione walked up to grab the items, Draco took a seat at his desk. "If you don't finish tonight, there's always tomorrow," he told her, grabbing a quill and scribbling on a piece of parchment. Hermione huffed and grabbed the bucket and brush before walking to the back of the room to start on the cauldrons farthest away from Draco. She sat the bucket on the floor beside a desk, pointed her wand at it, and watched as it filled with soapy water. _If he says something about using magic, I swear I'll hex him,_ Hermione thought, but Draco did not look up. She smiled triumphantly and dipped the brush in the water. Grimacing at the encrusted cauldron she began scrubbing the sides. Bits of soapy, charred matter—she didn't care to know, or even guess, what it was—fell to the bottom of the cauldron as she scrubbed. _Please don't let them all look like this_, she thought, but found that her plea was in vain. It seemed to Hermione that every cauldron got progressively worse, and by the end she was covered in black from her elbows to her fingertips. Her hair had annoyed her for all but the first half hour, but she refused to wipe the hair out of her eyes. Having a black mark on her face would just give Draco more material to mock her with.

"I'm done," she muttered, placing the brush inside the bucket and the bucket where she had found it. Draco looked up and smirked and her disheveled appearance. He then motioned behind him with his wand.

"You missed a spot," he said and she turned around to find every single cauldron filthy once again. Deciding to drop her air of civility, she spun on her heel and glared at him.

"You're insufferable," she hissed. She raised her wand and pointed it directly between his eyes.

"Hexing a professor will get you expelled, Granger," Draco drawled, but Hermione did not lower her wand.

"Don't you dare think you're better than me, Malfoy," Hermione hissed. "You're nothing but a coward with an enchantment on your arm." She turned and began walking toward the door.

"Just where do you think you're going, Mudblood?" he asked and Hermione glanced down at her arm, which had begun to tingle.

"Away from you," she whispered, holding back tears as she walked to her dormitory. She threw herself on her bed and pulled up her sleeve, staring at the inscribed word. Tears fell down her cheek and landed on her white pillow, giving it the appearance of having gray polka-dots.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked as she walked in the room. Hermione sat up.

"I thought it was over—I thought it had been established that blood status meant anything. I thought . . . " she trailed off.

"You wouldn't have to continue to endure the evil that is Draco Malfoy?" Ginny asked.

"I figured he would run—go into hiding with his mother in case his father broke out of Azkaban," Hermione said. "I didn't think I'd see him again."

"What's the real problem here?" Ginny asked, sitting down beside Hermione. "You haven't let your blood status bother you in years. You know you're the best witch most people have ever known."

Hermione bit her lip and leaned her head against the bed post. "I hate that after all these years—after all I've been through—he's the one person that can get to me."

"You do seem rather . . . different when he's around," Ginny said. "More guarded, I suppose. Like you're preparing for a fight."

"He's just . . . UGH!" Hermione fell backwards on her bed. "He's so insufferable!"

Ginny laughed. "Have you ever thought he does it just because he likes watching you lose your composure?" she asked.

"What, like he only pretends to hate me?" Hermione scoffed.

Ginny shrugged. "Just a suggestion."

"Ginny, what am I going to do?" Hermione groaned. "I cannot go an entire year like this."

"So beat him at his own game," Ginny said.

Hermione sat up. "You mean humiliate him? Ginny, that's . . . "

"Ingenious? Exciting?" she asked. "Come on Hermione, be a rebel."

Hermione laughed. "And here I thought I was going to have a quiet year at Hogwarts . . . "

* * *

_Short, I know. What can I say? I'm a short and sweet kind of girl. _**Review Please :) **if only because it gives me the incentive to write more.


	3. The Art of Losing

"Do it," Ginny whispered, poking Hermione in the side.

Hermione violently shook her head. "I can't, Ginny, I've already had enough detention."

"Fine," Ginny said, "I'll do it." She pulled out her wand and pointed it at Draco from under the table. Hermione watched as his left and right shoe laces tied themselves together. Immediately, his pacing between rows came to a stop as he fell forward. His reflexes were quick; he managed to catch himself with his hands instead of falling flat on his face. He got up faster than Hermione thought possible and glanced frantically around the room, a flush gracing his pale cheeks.

"Which one of you wankers did this?" he asked. Hermione sniggered behind her hand as the rest of the class laughed openly. "Enough!" he shouted and the class became silent. He reached down to untie the tangled mess of laces before looking up, his eyes narrowed. "I _will_ find out who did this and you _will_ be punished," he said before walking up to the chalkboard.

"Hermione . . . " Ginny whispered through her silent laughter.

"I know, I know," Hermione said. She reached for the wand she had laid in her lap and muttered a spell.

Draco picked up a piece of chalk and began writing on the board. "What the—" he took a step back so that the class could see the words _I am an arse_ scribbled on the board. He picked up the eraser and furiously began erasing the words. Then, he tried writing again. This time the board read _I am a dimwit_. Draco turned around and threw the piece of chalk toward the class. It hit the floor beside Hermione's desk and broke in half.

"I demand you tell me who is doing this, or so help me I will keep you all in detention for a week," he said. Ginny nodded towards Hermione who sighed, but raised her hand.

"Yes, Ms. Granger? You know who the culprit is?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "Me."

"You?" Draco scoffed. "I think not."

Hermione pointed her wand at his shoes and everyone watched as they became tied together once more. "Told you," she said.

"Fine," Draco snapped. "Detention for another week. You're lucky I'm not reporting you to McGonagall."

_This is putting a serious damper on my study time_, Hermione thought as she entered the potions classroom. The room looked as it had the night before—rows and rows of dirty cauldrons. Draco sat in his desk chair reading a rather thick book with his feet crossed upon his desk.

"Right on time," he drawled without looking up. "Must have been hard for you."

Hermione rolled her eyes and walked up to his desk, grabbing the gray bucket and brush. "You're a git," she muttered. He put down his book and stood up, following her as she walked to the back of the room.

"Oh really?" Draco asked, "Because earlier today I thought I was an arse and a dimwit."

Hermione flushed at the memory of her earlier actions—it really had been quite childish. However, she had to admit that the words she charmed the chalk to write were true. She turned around, preparing to say something, but he spoke first.

"You know, there are worse things I could call you," he drawled.

"Like Mudblood?" Hermione asked. "Haven't we been there before?" She rolled up her sleeve revealing the cut that never seemed to scar. The wound always appeared new—no matter what charm Hermione tried. "I've got enough of a reminder, thanks," she snapped at him. He looked away quickly from her arm, turned around, and began walking back to his desk. Just as Hermione filled the bucket with water, he spun back around.

"I have a scar of my own, you know," he muttered angrily.

Hermione scoffed. "Except yours was taken willingly," she snapped. "No one held you down and tortured you, simultaneously ignoring your screams of pain."

"You don't know anything!" Draco yelled. "You don't know a damn thing about me!"

"Are you or are you not a Death Eater?" Hermione questioned, but Draco remained silent. "And have you or have you not killed before?" Still no response. Hermione shook her head. "Don't tell me I don't know you," she said. "I've been a victim of you for years."

He stared at her unblinkingly as a tear ran down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly. "I need to get to work," she muttered. Draco nodded and walked back to his desk.

"They better be spotless," he told her, but she noticed the usual fierceness was gone from his voice. He sat behind his desk, propped his feet back on top, and began reading. As Hermione cleaned she had the sickening feeling that he was watching her.

Two hours later, Hermione finished cleaning. She returned the bucket and brush to Draco's desk, but not before casting a spell under her breath.

"That's a nice look for you," he drawled as she approached. This time, she forgot to not wipe the hair out of her face. She was sure that she looked absolutely ridiculous. Hermione just hoped the black grime masked the blush she felt beginning to appear.

"Thanks," she replied, faking a smile.

"You seem cheery," he said.

Hermione shrugged. "Just glad to be done."

Draco scoffed. "We'll see about that," he said, waving his wand. When nothing happened to the cauldrons he looked confusingly at Hermione.

"Problem?" she asked, smiling. He narrowed his eyes.

"I thought I said no magic," he drawled.

Hermione shrugged. "Must have forgotten," she replied. "How silly of me." For reasons completely unknown to Hermione, Draco smirked.

"You may leave," he drawled. Slightly taken aback, Hermione turned around slowly and began walking out of the classroom.

"Detention tomorrow, Granger," he yelled. "I don't give a damn that it's Saturday."

Hermione froze and turned around, a strained smile plastered on her face. "Can't wait."

* * *

**_Sorry about the incredibly long wait. I'll try to update more frequently. _**

**_Review please :)_**


	4. Never Think

"Where are you going?" Ginny whispered as Hermione slipped her shoes on. "It's like 8 o' clock. On a Saturday morning." Ginny's eyelids were half open, trying to make out Hermione in the dim morning light.

"Detention," Hermione whispered and Ginny's eyes snapped open.

"That git!" she whispered harshly. "Is he even allowed to give detention on a Saturday?"

Hermione shrugged. "It would seem so." Ginny stood up from her bed and rummaged through the drawer of her night stand.

"Here," she said, holding out a small, pink ball that seemed to have the consistency of chalk.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, gingerly picking it up with her right index finger and thumb.

"A gift from George," Ginny answered. "Drop it when you get near Malfoy."

Hermione stuck the object in her pocket. "I'm already late," she said, rushing out the door. "Come get me for lunch!"

Hermione walked swiftly to the potions classroom and smoothed down her hair before entering. The last thing she wanted was Draco thinking she actually cared she was late.

"Granger," he drawled from behind his desk. "You're late."

"What keen observation skills you have," she said, rolling her eyes. She walked over to his desk and he stood up, handing her an eraser.

"Clean the chalkboard," he ordered. Clean the chalkboard? Seriously? Because Draco obviously did not have arms to assist him in this. He was being ridiculous. Hermione reached into her pocket, felt the chalky material, grabbed it, and dropped it on the floor. It shattered and a puff of pink smoke suddenly separated Hermione and Draco.

"What the hell—" she heard Draco say. Panicked, she suddenly realized she didn't actually know what was about to happen. Should she run? I mean he obviously knew she was the culprit, but, would running help? He was a little scary when angry . . .

Before Hermione had time to do anything, the smoke cleared and she was facing Draco. Her eyes widened and she held her breath as she realized he was completely naked. His mouth open and closed, unable to form words, and a faint blush crept across his cheeks. She'd never seen him so . . . vulnerable.

Her mind screamed at her to look away, but her eyes refused. This wasn't how she had imagined the first time seeing a man naked—not that she had often imagined it. He was rather . . . perfect. Though unusually pale, it only added to his beauty. She watched as the muscles of his abdomen clenched, rippling majestically under his skin. Her gaze fell lower, following a light blonde trail south.

"Get the hell out of here, Granger!" Draco barked, causing Hermione to jump and her eyes to snap to his face. His scowl said he was livid, but she swore she saw a hint of amusement in his eyes. Hermione's face instantly reddened as her mind wandered to her own expression. She was sure it was one of awe.

"Right," she said, noting her voice was incredibly squeaky, "I'll just be going." She rushed out of the classroom, power walking the entire way to the Gryffindor girl's dormitories. Upon entering she saw Ginny lying face down and sleeping soundly. In an uncharacteristic move, she grabbed a pillow off her own bed and hit her best friend repeatedly. Ginny groaned.

"What's going on?" she muttered, turning over to face a fuming Hermione. Instead of looking apologetic, however, Ginny bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"This is not a laughing matter, Genevra!" Hermione said. Ginny sat up.

"Oh come on, it had to be a little funny," she said.

"No."

"Not even the tinsey little bit?"

"No."

"Just a smidgen?"

"Ginny!" Hermione collapsed on the bed.

"Okay, okay." Ginny sighed. "Well, what happened then?"

"You know what happened!"

"I meant after," Ginny explained. "Was he mad? Embarrassed?"

"I think both," Hermione answered. "He was in shock."

"So he just stood there?" Ginny asked, and Hermione nodded. "And what did you do?" Hermione looked down at her hands to prevent Ginny from seeing the redness currently gracing her face. "You looked at him, didn't you?" Ginny exclaimed.

"I was shocked," Hermione muttered, and Ginny laughed.

"It's perfectly natural," she said. "I mean, he may be a prick, but there's no denying he's attractive."

"Ginny!"

"What? You know it's true."

"I should obliviate myself," Hermione muttered.

"Okay, but before you do, can I ask you a question?" Ginny asked, and the grin upon her face worried Hermione.

"I suppose so . . . "

"Did he have anything to be embarrassed about?"

"What?" Surely she wasn't insinuating . . .

"You know, is he well endowed?"

"Ginny!" Hermione threw a pillow, hitting Ginny in the face, and the two of them broke into giggles.


	5. Welcome to the Times

"Maybe he's sick," Hermione told Ginny. "He probably doesn't feel well enough to come to class."

Ginny snorted. "Like he would miss a day of first and second years kissing his arse," she muttered. Hermione's first instinct was to scold Ginny on her language, but she stopped as she realized Ginny was completely right.

"Great," Hermione whispered, placing her elbow on the table and resting her head in her hand. She was hoping to avoid seeing Draco for at least a few more hours. At least yesterday had been her last day of detention.

The door opened, revealing Draco carrying a glass container holding a pair of leaves Hermione recognized as sneezewort.

"Who can tell me what this is?" Draco asked, placing the container on his desk. He turned around, finding an absence of raised hands.

"No one?" he asked, scanning the room. He walked toward Hermione. "Come on, Granger. We both know you know the answer." Hermione shook her head. "Excuse me?" he asked. "THE Hermione Granger doesn't know something?"

"No," Hermione said harshly, though she wasn't completely sure why she was lying. She knew exactly what the leaves were, and that they were a main ingredient in the Befuddlement Draught. She knew the plant bloomed in July and August, that it needed quite a bit of moisture, and that its flowers were white.

"No . . . what?" Draco asked, watching her closely as she struggled to remain calm. Somehow she knew telling him the answer was a bad idea. Not that lying was any better.

"No, I don't know the answer," Hermione spat.

Draco shook his head. "Sorry, but the correct answer was 'No, Professor Malfoy'," he smirked and stepped near his desk, looking out at all the students. "She sees me naked and suddenly all the rules fly out the window," he said. "Tsk, tsk, Granger."

Hermione immediately turned red as the other students turned to look at her. She looked down at the table and masked the sides of her face with her hair.

"This is all your fault," she whispered harshly to Ginny.

"I didn't think he was going to be this upset about it," Ginny whispered back. "It was just supposed to be a joke."

Hermione sighed. "Is everyone still staring?" she asked.

"Do you want me to tell you the truth, or what you want to hear?" Ginny said. Well that answered her question. She probably looked like an idiot, but she refused to look up until the attention was off of her. As soon as she could, she was finding George and hexing him for this. Right after Malfoy, of course.

"Are they still looking?" Hermione whispered.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

Relieved, Hermione looked up. Almost instantly she realized the extent of Ginny's lie—everyone, including Draco was staring directly at her. She turned and glared at Ginny who shrugged.

"I couldn't let you keep sitting there," Ginny whispered. "You looked like a retarded turtle."

* * *

"What was that?" Hermione demanded, stomping up to Draco's desk as soon as class was over and the students had filed out.

"I believe that is what they call a lesson," Draco drawled. "I thought you were an expert on the subject."

"Shut up, Malfoy. You know what I'm talking about."

Draco gathered papers into stacks on his desk. "Oh, that." He smirked. Hermione shoved his shoulder and he stumbled backwards.

"You're such an arse!" she yelled. "The whole class thinks we shagged!"

"You should be grateful," Draco said. "Being deflowered by a Malfoy and all."

"Except it's a lie!"

"As I recall I told them you saw me naked. That is the truth, is it not?" Draco asked.

Hermione's stance softened. "Well, yes, but—"

"Then I see no problem." He sat down at his desk and pulled out a quill. "You may leave."

Hermione clenched her fist and threw the papers off his desk.

"What the hell, Granger!"

"Take it back!" Hermione demanded.

Amused, Draco stared at the papers scattered on the floor. "And how do you propose I do that?"

"Just tell them it was a joke. Tell them you weren't serious."

"Fine."

"You're such—Wait, what?" Hermione stopped mid-sentence, taken aback by Draco's agreement.

"I said I'll do it," Draco said, smirking.

"Oh, well then tha—"

"I just have one condition," he said as he stood up from his desk. Hermione bit her lip to prevent an outburst. "Detention for another week."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "That's your condition?"

"Take it or leave it."

"Fine," she said. "Detention it is."

"Good," Draco said, motioning for her to leave. "See you tomorrow night."

Hermione forced a smile. "Can't wait."


	6. New Soul

"Well, he did take it back," Ginny said as they walked up the changing staircases back to the Gryffindor dormitories.

Hermione scoffed. "I hardly call announcing to the whole class that 'You'd have to be insane if you think a Malfoy would ever sleep with someone like Granger' taking it back."

"Did you really expect anything different?" Ginny asked before muttering the password to the fat lady. The door swung open and they entered the Gryffindor common room.

"He's just so insufferable!" said Hermione, collapsing on the couch. "I can't believe I agreed to more detention with the prat!"

"So don't go," Ginny said, placing her books on the table in the center of the room. She sat in the chair beside the couch.

"I have to go, Ginny. It's a school rule. You can't skip detention."

Ginny snorted. "What?" Hermione demanded.

"It's just . . . " Ginny tried to contain her laughter. "I'm starting to think you like spending time with him."

"That's . . . " Hermione sat up straight and crossed her legs. "No. Definitely not."

"Then why haven't you gone to McGonagall? You know she would sort this all out," Ginny said.

"It's my problem," Hermione said. "I'll deal with it."

"Okay," said Ginny, smirking, "but if you don't stop saying 'Draco' in your sleep, I'm going to start pouring cold water on you."

"I do not!"

Ginny, still smirking, raised her eyebrows.

"Do I?"

Ginny started laughing, shaking her head.

"You're terrible!" Hermione said, throwing a pillow at her face. It hit Ginny directly in the nose, but didn't stop her from giggling.

"I'm leaving," Hermione said, standing up from the couch and walking to the door.

"Prince Charming calls!" Ginny yelled after her, to which she received an evil glare. Sometimes Hermione understood why Ron and Ginny fought all the time.

"How could she even think I enjoyed my time with him?" Hermione muttered as she walked toward the potions classroom. "He's insufferable, has an ego the size of the moon, and finds pleasure in other people's pain. _Ginevra_ is being ridiculous." She huffed and threw open the door, revealing Draco standing mere feet from her. She jumped slightly at his unexpected closeness.

"Problem?" Draco drawled, and she could feel his warm breath on her face. She shivered

"Besides the fact that I'm currently spending detention with you?" Hermione asked, pushing by him. "No. Not at all." She looked around the room and found the desks oddly bare. "No cauldrons?" she asked. She knew for a fact that third years had brewed a particularly viscous potion just that morning. Cleaning them by hand would've taken at least three hours (on a good day).

"No." Draco turned, walked over to his desk, and sat down. "I took care of them." Confused, Hermione cautiously took a few steps toward him.

"So, then . . . what am I doing?"

Draco shrugged. "Just clean the blackboard. I don't care."

Obviously something was going on with him, but she knew well enough not to ask. Instead, she picked up an eraser and began erasing the words on the chalkboard. "What's your favorite color?" she asked, trying to make conversation and lighten his mood. Draco looked up at her question, but didn't reply. "Mine is purple."

"And you think I care why?" Draco said. Hermione sat down the eraser.

"Surely you have a favorite color," she said, ignoring his previous statement, "everyone does." Draco stared at her for a moment, but then resumed reading papers without an answer. "Okay, fine. How about if I guess correctly, you nod or whatever your equivalent to showing emotion is."

Draco glared at her, but said nothing.

"Green?"

No response.

"Black."

Silence.

"Oh, I know, Emerald!"

Glare.

"White?"

Draco glanced up at the clock that hung on the opposite wall. "You can leave now," he told her. Hermione sighed and began walking towards the door. She reached her hand out to turn the doorknob when Draco's voice stopped her.

"It's gray," he told her. "White is too pure, black is an absence of color, and colors are too blatantly obvious." He smirked and buried his head back in the stack of papers.

Hermione cocked her head to the side, smiled, and turned around. It wasn't an answer she was expecting; most people answered with a simple color, not an explanation. It was odd, really, because yesterday she would have found no point in the color gray. But now . . . it was beautiful, really—elegant, classy, yet soft and serene. Purple now seemed to beg for attention. She couldn't remember why she liked it.

Hermione shook her head to clear her thoughts. This wasn't logical. She stared at Draco, intensely grading a report of some kind, completely oblivious to the fact she was still there. Gray fit him, she decided.

* * *

_**Sorry it took so long to update. College has been crazy. Review please :)**_


	7. Can't Go Back Now

"So, what exactly are we looking for?" Ginny asked, pulling her maroon scarf tighter around her neck. The wind blew harshly in the opposite direction they were walking, and both Ginny's and Hermione's noses were a light shade of pink.

"A chess set," Hermione said. Ginny froze.

"You don't play chess," she stated. Hermione walked a few steps ahead before reluctantly turning around.

"Oh come on, Ginny. Will you just walk with me?"

Ginny sighed. "Fine. It isn't like a have a paper to write or anything," she muttered, following Hermione into a rather crowded Dervish & Banges. "Okay, seriously," she said. "Why do you need a chess set? Harry and Ron already have one, you don't play, I don't play, so who could you possibly…" Her eyes widened as realization set in. "You're buying it for Draco, aren't you?" she whispered.

Instead of responding, Hermione increased her pace to the corner of the shop that held multiple boxes of chess sets, along with a few on display.

"I can't believe you're ignoring me," Ginny muttered, dragging behind.

The first chess set consisted of red and yellow pieces and Hermione shook her head. Definitely not. The second was typical black and white—way too plain for Draco.

"There's a wooden one over here," Ginny said, but Hermione didn't even bother to look. Behind all the other sets, something shiny caught her eye. She moved a red and black set out of the way and gasped at what lay behind. The pieces were silver and crystal, completely unlike anything Hermione had ever seen.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, and Ginny came up behind her, nodding in agreement.

"It's perfect—if it's for Malfoy, I mean," Ginny said. "It looks like him."

Hermione smiled. "It's not too much?" she asked timidly. Ginny shrugged. "This is crazy," Hermione said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Why am I even getting him a Christmas gift? It's not like we're even friends."

"Are you sure about that?" Ginny asked. "I've heard a lot less complaining about detentions these past couple of weeks. It almost seems like you're having...fun."

Hermione smiled slightly. "Not fun, but it's tolerable," she said. "He's a lot different than we thought."

"He's different because of you, Hermione. Surely you've noticed."

"Because of me?" Hermione questioned, scoffing. "I doubt it."

"I've seen him in class. It's like he's a completely different person. People aren't scared of him anymore."

"That has nothing to do with me."

"And can you prove that?"

"Well, no, but—"

"No buts," Ginny said. "Now get the damn chess set so I can go finish my paper."

* * *

"You're late," Draco drawled as Hermione entered the potions classroom.

"Well spotted," Hermione said, placing a package wrapped in silver paper on a desk in the back of the classroom. Draco's eyes were drawn to it, but he said nothing. "So what shall I do today?" Hermione said, walking toward his desk.

He shrugged. "Don't care."

Hermione's eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "What?"

"I don't care, Granger. Do whatever the hell you want," he muttered.

"What's your problem?" Hermione asked. "You're the one who wanted me here. I should've been done with detention a long time ago."

"I never said I wanted you here," Draco said, but his tone had softened. Hermione had the oddest feeling he was lying.

"What's wrong, Draco?" she asked, startling him with the use of his first name. "You can talk to me, you know."

"And why would you care?" he snapped, standing up from his desk.

"Because believe it or not, I thought we were friends," she said, crossing her arms across her chest. "Excuse me for getting the wrong idea."

Draco stared at her, his face forming expressions she'd never seen before. His stance softened and he sat back down.

"After everything," he whispered, looking directly at her forearm as if he could see the scar beneath, "you want to be friends with me?"

Hermione smiled and walked to the back of the room to grab the package she brought in earlier.

"What's this?" Draco asked as she set it on his desk.

"It's a Christmas present, dimwit," she told him. He stared at her without blinking. "Well, open it," she said impatiently.

He slowly moved the package toward him and tore off the silver wrapping paper. Inside was a medium-sized black box. Hermione bit her lip as she watched him lift off the lid. Draco gingerly lifted the chess set out of the box and set it on his desk. He'd never seen anything like it.

"I know you lost yours a while ago, and I just figured you might want another one to play," she said nervously. Draco just stared at it.

"Christmas isn't for two weeks," he muttered.

"I know," Hermione said quickly. "But I'm going home for the holidays and I wanted you to have it before you left . . ." she trailed off, suddenly incredibly self-conscious. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. "Anyways, I'll—uh—just be going." She quickly retreated out of the door, leaving Draco still staring in awe at the chess set.

* * *

**_Reviews honestly make my day :)_**


	8. So It Begins

"How was your Christmas?" Ginny asked as Hermione arrived in the girl's dormitories, luggage in tow.

"It was splendid to see my family," Hermione said, lifting her suitcase up on her bed, "though I must admit, I became quite bored."

"Lack of Malfoy?" Ginny teased, and Hermione glared at her. "Oh come on," Ginny said, rolling her eyes, "you're honestly telling me you didn't think about him once?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Well…"

"Told you," Ginny said, smiling triumphantly. Hermione sighed and sat down on her bed.

"Why are you so fine with this? You hate him."

Ginny shrugged. "The war changed people. It changed everything." She sat down on the bed opposite Hermione. "Besides, you're my best friend. If you like him, I like him."

"I never said I liked him," Hermione whispered, but she guessed she didn't convince Ginny because she wasn't even convincing herself.

"What did he think of the chess set?" Ginny asked, changing the subject. "You never told me."

"I'm not really sure," Hermione said. "He didn't really say anything."

Ginny looked flabbergasted. "You got Malfoy to shut up? Must have been one hell of a shock to him."

Hermione laughed. "I don't think he's used to people being nice to him," she said. "It's rather sad, really." She looked at the clock on her bedside table. "Well, time to go."

"He gave you detention the day you get back from Christmas Holidays?" Ginny asked. "He must have really missed you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I doubt it. He probably just wants me to set up for class tomorrow or something."

"Uh huh, right," Ginny said. "You keep telling yourself that."

Hermione glared at Ginny before walking downstairs and out of the Gryffindor common room. She realized with a shock she was nervous—palms sweaty, heart racing—and she swallowed hard. "This is ridiculous," she told herself. "Draco Malfoy couldn't possibly care about you." She doubt if he ever cared about anyone besides himself. Okay, fine, so she didn't actually think that. It just made things easier.

Hermione took a deep breath before slowly pushing open the door to the potions classroom. Usually she swung it open, so she wasn't surprised when Draco didn't look up. He sat as his desk reading a book that looked oddly similar to a Muggle novel. His hair had grown a little since she last saw him, and it masked his eyes. She wondered what he was thinking.

Hermione softly cleared her throat and Draco looked up. As soon as he noticed her, he shoved the book he was reading in a drawer of his desk.

"Granger," he said, and she swore his voice cracked ever so slightly. He awkwardly stood up from his desk, but said nothing.

Why did this feel so weird? She'd had detention with him numerous times, but this just felt . . . different. She had to the urge to run, but at the same time found her feet would not move. He continued silently staring at her, making her squirm under his gaze.

Finally, she managed to walk forward and approach his desk.

"What were you reading?" Hermione asked, and prided herself on her composure. She halfway expected gibberish to spew from her lips.

"Nothing," Draco said, moving in front of the drawer where he had stashed the book.

"Sure looks like something to me," Hermione said. She tried to maneuver around him to open the drawer, but he moved so he blocked her path. "It can't be that bad, Malfoy," she said, rolling her eyes, but Draco gave no response. "Oh come on," Hermione said, pushing him in the chest. He caught her hand with his own and their eyes locked for a fraction of a second before Draco stepped away. She still felt the warmth of his hand when he scowled and said,

"Fine. Go ahead."

Hermione looked at him quizzically and then down at her hand. When she looked up, she noticed Draco staring at her. She smiled nervously and opened the drawer, picking up the book he had tried so desperately to hide.

" _To Kill a Mockingbird_," she read aloud. She looked up at him. "You're reading a Muggle book?" She turned to the title page. "You're reading _my_ favorite Muggle book?" Hermione had never been more shocked in her life. Maybe Ginny was right and he had changed…

"Don't flatter yourself, Granger," Draco drawled. "I was bored."

"And you couldn't read one of the thousand of books Hogwarts has in its library?" she asked, skeptical. Draco shrugged.

"I've pretty much read them all," he said. "Don't look at me like that," he said when he noticed she looked genuinely surprised, "I'm not as daft as you and your friends think I am." He grabbed the book from her and shoved it back in the desk.

"I never thought you were daft," Hermione whispered. "Arrogant and a pain in the arse, yes, but never daft." She smiled slightly and Draco smirked back at her. For some reason she was unable to look away from his face. His eyes bore into her and she felt her heart lurch into her stomach.

"So . . . " she started, trying to regain composure, "how was your holiday? Mine was quite—"

She didn't know how it happened, but his lips were suddenly on hers. She felt his hand on the back of her neck and a chill went down her spine. Without thinking, she parted her lips, desperate to feel more, when she suddenly realized what she was doing. For a reason completely unknown to her, she grabbed her wand and sent a curse at Draco. He flew backwards, landing haphazardly on the floor.

"Um . . . " Hermione said, pressing her fingers to her lips where she could still feel the warmth from his breath. Her eyes widened as she stared at Draco who looked just as confused as she felt. And then, she ran.

* * *

_Sorry it took me so long to update. Please review :) It makes me want to write more_.


	9. Finally

"He kissed you?" Ginny exclaimed as they were walking to potions the next day. She stopped walking and turned towards Hermione. "And you didn't tell me this earlier because?"

"I was still processing it," Hermione said. "Now come on," she grabbed Ginny's arm, "we're going to be late."

"Woah, woah, woah," Ginny jerked away from Hermione's grip, "we are not going anywhere until you give me details."

Hermione sighed. "He just . . . kissed me. Out of nowhere."

"And did you kiss back?" Ginny asked, suddenly looking way too giddy for Hermione's liking.

"No." She answered quickly, but then sighed. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Ginny asked, rolling her eyes. "It's a yes or no question, Hermione. This isn't Ancient Runes."

Hermione glanced toward the door of the classroom. She did not like to be late. "Yes, okay. I kissed him back. But it was only for a second, and anyways, I hexed him afterwards," she said in a rush.

Ginny busted out laughing. "Seriously?"

"Can we just go in now?" Hermione asked. She'd watched the rest of the class pass them as Ginny doubled over laughing, and didn't particularly like the idea of being the last one in.

"Sure," Ginny said, calming down, "this is going to be one interesting class."

They walked in to find Draco already teaching.

"Weasley, Granger," he drawled. "You're late."

Hermione formed the retort "well spotted" in her head, but found herself unable to speak. When she said nothing and sat down at her desk, he looked genuinely surprised she had passed up a chance for bickering.

"Awkward moment number one," Ginny whispered as she took the seat beside Hermione who glared at her.

"We're on page 243," a rather high-pitched male voice whispered behind them and they both pulled out their books, turning to the correct page.

"Draught of peace?" Hermione whispered to Ginny. "We learned how to brew this in fifth year."

"Well, after hexing him maybe he thought you needed it," Ginny whispered back, unsuccessfully holding back laughter.

"Something funny, Weasley?" Draco asked.

Ginny shook her head. "Nope. We're ready to become peaceful." She elbowed Hermione. "Right, Hermione?"

"Um…" Hermione nodded. "Yes?"

Draco looked at her strangely, but continued his lesson. "Now who can tell me the ingredients of this potion?" He looked around the room, but no one raised their hand, so he turned his attention to Hermione. She squirmed uncomfortably in her chair

"Fine," she sighed, "powdered moonstone and syrup of hellebore."

Draco smirked triumphantly. "Congratulations on being a know-it-all." He turned around and began writing the ingredients on the board. "Ms. Granger is correct, but I assume you lot already knew that."

Hermione blushed. "Why is he being like this?" she whispered to Ginny. "I thought we were friends."

"You rejected him," Ginny explained. "He's hurt."

Come to think of it, Hermione realized, Draco did seem different. His eyes usually had a playful gleam to them while he was making fun of her, but now . . . they just seemed cold. Had the kiss really meant that much to him? Was it possible that he liked her and wasn't just trying to make her another conquest? For the remainder of the class she couldn't stop staring at him while noting the difference in his body language. She was so baffled by it that she hardly heard the lesson, and didn't realize class was over until Ginny slammed her book closed. Hermione's head snapped in her direction.

"Were you even paying attention?" Ginny asked. "Since when do you space out during class?"

Hermione was about to respond when she heard Draco's voice.

"Granger, stay after class for detention."

Hermione turned towards a confused looking Ginny and shrugged. "See you later?" she offered weakly. Ginny nodded.

"Have fun," she teased. As Ginny left the classroom, Hermione began awkwardly walking toward Draco's desk. He pointed to a stack of papers on his desk.

"These need to be graded," he said before beginning to collect books off of students' desks. She couldn't tell if he was angry, annoyed, or simply just being Draco, so she silently took a seat at his desk and pulled out a grading quill.

"McGonagall believes I've been giving you detention far too much," Draco commented. Hermione smiled at the tone of his voice—he was teasing her.

"I'd hardly call it detention anymore," she stated, looking up.

Draco smirked. "I knew you'd fall for me," he drawled. "I'm impossible to resist."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're a git," she told him as he piled up all the books he had collected onto the desk in front of Hermione.

"And you're a pain in the arse," he retorted with a playful smirk, flipping through the pages of the book on the top of the stack.

Hermione wasn't sure what compelled her to stand up and walk over to him—it could've been his strange body language earlier, the way she had to force back a smile when he teased her, but most likely it was the fact that she hadn't been able to get the kiss out of her mind.

Draco sensed she was behind him and turned around. "Need something, Granger?" he drawled. And then the unexpected happened.

Hermione stood up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. At first, he stood rigid, but when she began to pull away, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. Before she had time to become acclimated to the feeling, he spun her around and began leading her backwards. A small squeak of protest escaped from her lips, but was silenced when she felt her back hit the wall. She was immediately glad the wall was cool against the back of her arms—the rest of her body was on fire and she needed something to calm herself down. She played with the hair on the nape of his neck as he ran his hands down her sides. The kiss deepened and she felt his tongue lightly brush against her lips before slipping inside her mouth. She heard a low moan escape his throat and felt a hand move under her shirt. Her hand immediately grabbed his wrist to stop him from going any further, and the kiss was broken.

Draco stepped back from her, and she found herself immediately missing his touch. "Sorry," he muttered. "You're too sexy for your own good, Granger." A smirk formed upon his lips as Hermione blushed deeply.

"I should – uh – probably apologize for hexing you yesterday," Hermione muttered softly. Draco moved closer to her once again and pushed a stray strand of hair back behind her ear.

"I think you just did."

* * *

_So excited I get to write them together now! Review please, it really does make my day :)_


End file.
